Birthdays
by Blanche Mottershead
Summary: It's not always easy being the wife of the Doctor. He is never entirely River's, not in the same way that she is wholly his. And it's times like this when River looks to her mother for comfort. Even if she doesn't explicitly say so. Another little 'ficlet' as someone so delightfully put it. hope you all enjoy. Do tell me what you think.


Birthdays

There was a crackle of electricity and a flash of light, then everything was still again. Amy had just been heading up to bed; she paused at the top of the stairs, listening. She could hear quiet movement, and then a heavy, but familiar sigh. River. She headed downstairs and found her daughter sitting in the dark living room, curled up in the armchair by the window. Her knees were drawn right up to her chest, her head leaning against the wing of the chair, her eyes gazing out into the empty street. She was oddly quiet, and still, and the fact that she didn't seem to have noticed her presence yet troubled Amy. It was very unlike her daughter not to be aware of her surroundings. She must be very deep in thought.

"Happy birthday Mels," Amy said from the door. River jumped ever so slightly, and Amy saw her fingers twitch towards her gun. She looked around and smiled at her mother.

"Thanks Mum," she said quietly. Amy walked over and sat opposite her daughter. She looked at her, studying her face. Her bright green eyes seemed sad despite the little smile on her face.

"Did you see it?" Amy asked her. River grinned.

"Oh yes," she chuckled. "You did a good job on that. I've been excavating it all day. The university team thought it was an offering of some sort." Amy laughed. They had hiked up onto a cliff top to carve their birthday message to their daughter into the rock, as there was never any telling when they might see her. But they would be damned if River ever felt they had forgotten her.

River turned back to look out of the window once more, looking intently into the dark street, waiting, hoping.

"He didn't come, did he?" Amy asked tentatively.

"I just thought, seeing as he missed the last year, he might," River's voice trailed off and she looked down at her hands. Amy thought she saw her daughter's eyes sparkle dangerously, as though she might cry.

"It's silly really," she said, forcing a smile.

"How long has it been?" Amy asked.

"Almost a year," River said quietly. She looked up and forced a brave smile, trying to reassure her mother that she was okay. But it was clear that she wasn't fooling anyone. "I know he isn't mine, not in the same way that I am his. I know that," she looked down again, trying to hide her hurt expression. "But that doesn't make it any easier." Amy stood up and wrapped her child up in her arms. It unnerved her to see River, who was always so strong, so sassy, be so distinctly human, so vulnerable. It reminded her of when she had been just a baby, torn from her arms. Amy placed a kiss on the top of her daughters curly head. River looked up and smiled at her.

"Well, when he does show up, you send him straight to me. He is in a lot of trouble." They both chuckled. Amy gave her one last squeeze, and then headed back towards the door. Before she left she stopped, turning back to her daughter.

"Don't stay up too late okay?" River couldn't help but smile at her mother's concern.

"Okay."

"I love you Melody."

"Love you too Mum." And once Amy had left, River went back to staring out of the window.

The TARDIS materialised silently in the Pond's hallway. The Doctor opened the door tentatively, and stepped out, looking cautiously around him. He hadn't been here in many, many years. He ran a hand nervously over his short grey hair. The door to he living room was ajar. He opened it very slowly, so as not to make it creek. River was curled up in the armchair by the window, her deep, heavy, rhythmic breathing telling him she had fallen asleep here. Waiting for him no doubt, or rather, a younger version of him. He walked over and smiled sadly down at her. He could remember when he had realised that he had missed it. Missed her second birthday in a row. It had torn him up inside when he had found out that she had waited here, and fallen asleep looking out for him. Carefully, he scooped his wife up into his arms, and carried her up the room that Amy and Rory kept prepared for her in case of a visit. He tucked her in, then shirked off his coat, and kicked off his boots before settling himself opposite her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, sweeping her curls from her face. She stirred at the sound of his voice, and her eyes fluttered open for a moment.

"Sweetie?" she mumbled sleepily, confusion laced through her voice.

"It's me," he said, his deep voice low and soft. "I'm sorry I'm not who you were expecting." She smiled sleepily and pulled herself closer, nestling into him to listen to his two heartbeats. He smiled, then wrapped his arms around her. He had missed her.

"It's okay," she muttered, only half awake.

"No, it's not," he said. "He is a dick." River chuckled dozily.

"He is. But you are here." She smiled, seemingly content with that, and her hand closed around the fabric of his jumper. "That's all I wanted. I missed you." She sighed, and he kissed her very gently on the forehead as she slid happily back into sleep.

"I've missed you too."


End file.
